


I Am the Yiling Patriarch

by Pitycup_hearts



Category: Mo Dao Zu Shi, The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, 魔道祖师 - 墨香铜臭 | Módào Zǔshī - Mòxiāng Tóngxiù
Genre: Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fluff, I just needed an idol story tbh, M/M, Pretty Boys, Slow Burn, WangXian, XueXiao - Freeform, kpop inspired
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-07-29 09:36:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20080042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pitycup_hearts/pseuds/Pitycup_hearts
Summary: After incessantly getting second place in everything, Jiang Cheng finally gets his break when he receives a position as the Lan Xichen's back up dancer. Lan Xichen, the nation's biggest pop idol, is looking for the  perfect choreography members, and Wei Wuxian wants no part of it. Only, he doesn't back down from challenges either.  Accidentally landing a position, Wei Wuxian thinks it'll be fun to forget his band dreams, and enters the pop world with his red streaks, long hair, tattoos,  and piercings much to everyone's distaste. Unfortunately for the pop industry, Wei Wuxian is looking to be on top, even if it means outshining Lan Xichen. Not if Lan Wangji, Xichen's lead dancer and little brother has anything to say about it! He's going to have to step on Wanji's toes before he reaches the spotlight.  How long can Wei Wuxian be amused before the pop industry realizes he's not authentic?





	1. Contagious

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time on Ao3 and i've no idea how to work this LOLLLL.  
Btw, I am into metal music and pop so I don't discriminate. Hence, Wuxian being into metal is purely sexy.

Contagious. That’s what he was. Every fiber in his body, the pores on his skin, the veins in his arms, contagious. His eyes sparkled with laughter, his lips of mirth, the dance of his expressions a spell everyone fell under.  
But he was so…  
With distressed skinny jeans, a band t-shirt, his cross earrings, and labret piercing, the first thing every one noticed was all of him, and how away from him they wanted to be, until he spoke. His hair, long, like a breeze of pollution, flowed gently when he walked, softly as it filled the sky. He made even erosion look beautiful.  
Jiang Cheng sucked his teeth when he saw him emerge from the hallways, his bag swung over his shoulder, his headphones pressing down against his scalp, blaring the devil’s language in his ears.  
“Wei WuXian!” Jiang Cheng called, waving his arms to get his attention. His adoptive brother slid off the left speaker of the headphone and nodded upward at him.  
“You completely ignored me earlier. You’re not still going to your audition, right?”  
“Not right. I am still going to the audition,” Wei WuXian replied, a heavy smirk on his lips for it irritated him. Jiang Cheng’s face distorted with distaste.  
“That’s just like you. Go, fine, whatever. Go scream at the top of your lungs until you’re bored and come back.”  
“You going to practice today?” Wei WuXian completely ignored the comment, as he caught words in between the aggressive roars of his own music. He tipped off the right speaker of the headset as well, surrendering to the complete fact that he hadn’t heard a word Jiang Cheng said.  
“Yeah. Come with?”  
“Dazzle me. Wait, what time is it?”  
“Fifteen.”  
“Can’t. Got band class.”  
“C’mon! You haven’t gone to any of them! Yet you had the nerve to act like you were happy for me!”  
“I _am_ happy for you. Not everyone gets to be _the_ Xichen’s backup dancer.”  
At this, Jiang Cheng’s face lit up. After all, his mother had congratulated him, and his father was proud, while the both of them had scolded Wei WuXian for his taste in music and his worshipping a cult, which was just his band class. Finally, Jiang Cheng had gotten recognition. Jiang Cheng. Jiang Cheng never got recognition for anything and was always second place, always behind his adoptive brother. More so, it was Lan Xichen, the nation’s biggest pop idol. And he had gotten the position to be his back up dancer.  
“Look at you, you’re basically glowing,” Wei WuXian laughed, pointing at him. He smiled kindly though, as everyone questioned why the Jiang Wanyin, the famous backup dancer of the Lan Xichen, was talking to that creepy guy from band class. Like all ties had been cut, and the two had never known one another.  
Jiang Cheng was a bit shorter, a bit more tan, his jaw more angled, his eyes like almond, lighter than Wei WuXian’s whose orbs seem to roll out from the darkness. He would’ve been considered most beautiful, if he hadn’t stood next to the vampire who everyone considered surreal.  
“Just once, come see. I totally beat you this time,” Jiang Cheng said, pulling on his arm. Wei WuXian rolled his eyes but playfully.  
“What? You don’t think I can do a few pirouettes and be in some pop group? That’s gay.”  
“Take that back! It’s not gay! People love pop music!”  
“As they do gay things. Look, fine. I’ll go. But don’t expect me to be wowed.”  
“I bet you couldn’t land the part even if you tried.”  
“Are you kidding? I could be XiXi’s back up dancer if I tried. I could even be him if I tried.” With this, Wei WuXian laughed as Jiang Cheng’s face turned red from anger.  
“You take that back! And don’t call him that! You need to respect him. He has millions of fans!”  
“Okay, okay, since you’re all dud dud about it.”  
“Dud dud? The only one dud dud is you!”  
“I bet you if I audition, I’ll get a spot.”  
“Do it! I guarantee you won’t! They don’t want vampires in a pop group.”  
“I for one think that’s completely sexy, and I’m not a vamp. I’ll audition and XiXi’s going to love vampires in his choreo. If you lose, you owe me lunch.”  
“Take your money out and be prepared to bring me some pork buns because you’re losing,” Jiang Cheng said, confident for once in his life.

\---

It was difficult for Jiang Cheng to explain that his brother was coming to shadow him for future reference. Wei Wuxian however, was amused beyond compare.  
“Tie your hair up, please. And cover your tats. Don’t put on your chains either and take off the choker. The piercing too. At least take off one of your earrings,” Jiang Cheng was scolding, pulling at Wei Ying’s sleeves to cover up his body art.  
“How do you expect me to hide this?” Wei Ying asked, holding up his knuckles for just below them, he had sewn a skeleton key under his skin. Body modifications. He had implanted it there to show off his veiny hands and arms. Jiang Cheng glared at him.  
“Please don’t tell anyone we’re related. I still can’t believe you did that.”  
“It’s sexy.”  
“It’s gross,” Jiang Cheng spat. Just thinking about how he had had his skin cut open to place an object in for aesthetics was getting under his own skin. Goose flesh ran up and down his legs and arms. He never understood Wei Ying’s phases, and unfortunately, it wasn’t one. He stayed that way even into adulthood.  
Wei Ying had disregarded everything his adoptive brother had said, getting a strange look from the security guard as he was given a pass. He had sported a black and red horizontal knitted shirt that came to his knees, a black tank top underneath where his tattoos were still visible through the crosshatch. He wore more “proper” jeans that which had zippers running up the shins and calves and suspenders that he let swing by his waist. His feet adorned black martins with a red pentagon garnet across them.  
Jiang Cheng wore a contrast t-shirt, one side black and the other purple, a drawing patch denim coat, and black harem cargo pants with expensive sneakers. His right ear had one authentic amethyst crystal. He looked like a magazine had spit him up and yet Wei Ying, who wasn’t even trying, appeared surreal and elegant even, beside him.  
“What number did you get?” Jiang Cheng asked, referring to his audition number, looking over his shoulder but his brother had already stuffed it carelessly in his pocket. Jiang Cheng yanked off Wei Ying’s earphone and repeated himself.  
“I got 67. Who knew so many people would audition, like are you serious? Let’s hit lunch and come back. I can’t believe I missed band for this,” Wei Ying yawned, a green spearmint gum visible on his tongue.  
“No, stay in there and wait. You don’t want them to call out your number and you’re not even here.”  
“Great plan. You stay here and I’ll grab us both sandwiches,” Wei Ying suggested just as his stomach growled. Jiang Cheng kept a hold on him to keep him from leaving, a glare in his almond eyes.  
“Go practice before you make a fool out of yourself. Everyone is freaking out, don’t act so casual! It would be an honor if brother Xichen took you in,” the purple one barked. Wei Ying rolled his eyes, but agreed, entering one of the audition practice rooms so Jiang Cheng could go attend to his chore practice. After all, the Lan Xichen wasn’t going to attend to the audition rooms. He had his own things to worry about.  
_Far away from people as possible_, Wei Ying was thinking, as he went in search of a room farthest from civilization, it seemed. He walked towards room 107, the last room. Entering, he mindlessly left the door creaked open, standing before the mirror. It took him a little while before he actually took about a routine, because he had had nothing in mind and bothered more with how his hair looked. He loved the looks everyone had given him. His hair was so long “for a man” and his clothing was “outdated.”  
Bobbing to his metal tracks, he finally decided to be serious and tapped Lan Xichen’s name on his ipod before the song rolled into audio. Instantly, the EDM came through, the catchy beats and the tease of the instrumentals before Lan Xichen’s elegant voice manifested. He had whispered something, entrancing Wuxian as the beats emerged stronger, creating an opening, until it eventually dropped and the chorus embedded into his mind. The electro beats played with him, swirling him around, throwing him into the air and back as Xichen’s voice pushed him to and fro, whispering into one ear and then the other.

_New York, Paris, London._  
_ I’ll be there. I’ll be there_  
_ Like a Fire_  
_ I’ll be there, I’ll be there_  
_ Call me crazy_  
_ I’ll be there, I’ll be there_  
_ Like a rumor_

Wei Ying snickered. He must’ve admitted that he had a soft spot when it came to Lan Xichen, the only person ever to change the genre of his music taste. He loved listening to the man, but he did it in secret less anyone knew.  
Like a fire, huh? Wei Ying thought, as he restarted the song. He got into his own formation, swinging his hair in a circle before he started his own choreography. Wei Ying loved to dance, but not in the way that Jiang did. Jiang Cheng was very geometric about his formations and blend. Wei Ying was something else entirely, breaking the foundation and rules of dance, almost obscene in his routine, the disposition distraught, his movements oversaturated with flavor.

Just then, Lan Xichen had barely escaped his manager, or rather his uncle’s scolding about who to accept in the backup crew, scolding about how he was much too lenient with them, when he noticed movement in one of the practice rooms. Usually, the rooms back here were never used. The audition participates always liked to stay in the rooms in the front incase a “celebrity” would walk by and notice them. Instant fame, they called it. None of them knew that the back rooms were actually close to the staff, hence, this. Xichen stuck his head into the room invasively, muttering a quiet apology as he watched a young man’s routine. It was nothing like he had ever seemed. The man did not move in short bursts and pumps the way that he expected, for the rhythm encouraged them to. Most of Xichen’s dances were like that after all. Instead, this young man swayed and swung the way a flower would dance in a breeze, elegant and surreal. It was organic.  
With his long hair and red strands flashing, it was almost spooky to see such a routine, almost like a dance to summon the dead. With the young man came so close to the floor that Xichen almost thought he had fallen, Xichen watched as he rose again like the dead, not using his hands at all, spinning in a frantic circle before his leg came above his head in a full circle.  
_He’s…he’s like a fire_, Xichen thought, a smile manifesting on his face. _Like a rumor on the lips, he never dies._


	2. He's so Serious

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He looked around for the culprit when his eyes landed on someone who looked to have the best products in all of humanity. A young man with longer black hair, about shoulder length, was wiping his glasses on his pristine white shirt. Light didn’t seem to take to his eyes, in much the manner that it seemed to dodge Wei Ying’s as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where i'm going with this.  
Comment to help me continue, lol \\(^▽^)o ♥

Everything happened quickly, but the processing of Lan Xichen’s face came rather slowly in Wei Ying’s mind. It wasn’t that he didn’t know what the man looked like, but seeing him, he was like every other beautiful man. There were products for that. Wei Ying was hastily brought through backroom hallways, doors flashing past him, his feet following obediently though he had no idea what was going on. Maybe room 107 was off limits and he was being brought to security.

“Uncle, forget the auditions. I found the last member. It’s him. I want him,” Xichen quickly blurted out to Lan Qiren. The man was in the middle of yelling at the back up dancers to get their routine together and asses up for they had rested long enough. He turned around almost relieved to see Xichen return to speak some sense into them when the image of Wei Ying seemed to suck his soul out.

“Him?” He asked, his face scrunched with obvious disapproval.

“Oh, Jiang Cheng!” Wei Ying ignored the man completely, waving at his brother who was standing in the second row of the formation. Jiang Cheng could’ve turned red from embarrassment when his ears collected what Xichen had said.

“Brother Xichen! I apologize with my literal life,” Jiang Cheng said, coming over as he bowed. “That’s my…”

“Why apologize Wanyin? Do you know this young man? If anyone should be apologizing it’s me,” Xichen said, looking towards Wei Ying who ate up everyone’s expressions once again. The other dancers looked bewildered to see him.

“My name is Lan Xichen. What is your name?” He asked the red streaked young man. The name should’ve sparked something, something like admiration and applause, but instead Wei Ying simply smiled and put out his hand.

“WuXian. You can call me Wei Ying if you’d like. If you must know, Jiang Cheng over there is my brother.” At this, a huge grin plastered its way across Wei Ying’s features, knowing full well that Jiang Cheng would murder him later on.

“Oh? Wanyin is one of my most treasured recruitments. He’s second and in line for lead.”

“Second? But I’m not even here,” Wei Ying commented, a sneaky look under his nose. He looked around for the culprit when his eyes landed on someone who looked to have the best products in all of humanity. A young man with longer black hair, about shoulder length, was wiping his glasses on his pristine white shirt. Light didn’t seem to take to his eyes, in much the manner that it seemed to dodge Wei Ying’s as well. His demeanor was withdrawn, confident, and distant all at once. And he looked exactly like Lan XiChen.

“Yes, my lead dancer is my brother, Lan Wangji, or Lan Zhan. Don’t be shy, Wanji, come say hello,” Xichen said. Without his glasses on however, Wanji could barely make out their features let alone introduce himself professionally. He placed his glasses on and took in Wei Ying’s image before he simply nodded, something he would have never done to anyone else.

_He hates me, _Wei Ying thought, swallowing his laughter. Even Wei Ying had heard of the lead dancer Lan Wangji. He just never thought he’d look as perfectly polished as his brother. Xichen furrowed his eyebrows at his brother’s rude behavior.

“Everyone, this will be the last recruitment to the team. Jiang Wuxian will be the final member of the back up crew. Everyone, please work together from now on,” he said, in place of asking Wanji what was wrong.

“Wei Wuxian,” Wei Ying said, correcting him, an unaffected smile on his lips. “I’m the disgrace brother.”

Lan Wangji’s eyebrow seemed to implicate that it twitched, though no one was really sure but Xichen who smiled even brighter.

“So sorry about that. I’m sure that isn’t the case, brother Wei. If you’d like, I’d really love for you to be a part of the team.”

“But I haven’t auditioned.”

“You didn’t have to. Apologies but I happened to oversee your practice and I’m quite taken by your form. It’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

“Why thanks, I form me myself,” Wei Ying joked just as Lan Qiren coughed and Jiang Cheng glared. He decidedly composed himself and bowed.

“Thank you for having me brother Lan. I wholeheartedly accept.”

\---

They hated him instantly. Wei Ying didn’t start that day but rather the next, and he arrived late, coming in with his Mo Dao t-shirt, a dark metal band that most mainstream people didn’t know. He tasked himself to find bands that people never heard of. Maybe he rejected the in-crowd a bit too excessively. He entered the building, after the security needed to make a phone call because no one knew who he was or was claiming to be. All combat boots and retro vintage sunglasses, he entered without a care in the world.

“What the hell happened to you? I called you _three_ times!” Jiang Cheng was already in his face, too close for the man to take him seriously.

“I had it on vibrate,” Wei Ying answered nonchalantly, pointing to his headphones to show that there was no possible way he could’ve heard the device.

“You’re late!” Jiang Cheng yelled, just as the same remark left manager Lan’s lips. Wei Ying could’ve turned grey if it wasn’t for how amused he already was.

“No matter,” came a quiet elegant voice in the corner. "He’ll stay an hour after to practice.”

This man had been Lan Wangji who didn’t even trouble himself with glancing in their direction, simply tying his shoe laces and walking to his position. There was no time to waste. Wuxian had already been an hour late.

“I can’t, I have band practice,” Wei Ying responded, not really sure where he was supposed to stand. When he looked back, everyone seemed to stare at him in horror, and Jiang Cheng, as pale as a ghost. At this, a curl of a smile felt its way into Wei Ying’s face, sneaking under his nose and resting there. He had forgotten that his hobbies were quite the taboo here in this commercial world. Wangji had turned to look at him, before he looked away again.

“Pathetic,” the man muttered quietly.

At this, Wei Ying burst into laughter though no one quite understood the ordeal. Jiang Cheng glared him into silence.

“He called me pathetic,” Wei Ying whispered in his ear, glee still forming little roles under his eyes. Jiang Cheng stared back with annoyance.

“_And_? Why would that be funny?”

“He’s so serious, it’s kinda’ funny, c’mon.” Wei Ying waved at him to get into position despite not knowing what he himself was doing.

“There’s no time to waste. Wei Wuxian, six-o’clock. Wanyin, take his two o’clock. He’ll be shadowing you,” Manager Lan barked, already writing down the formation for the day.

“Six o’clock, two o’clock…why can’t he just say stand to the left and you to his upper right?” Wei Ying muttered under his breath, walking to stand where he was being instructed.

“Huaisang, you stand at his seven. You watch Wanyin too. Last demonstration, hear? Wangji will give you the queue to start, Wanyin. Zixuan, third row. Chao, to the back. I want that foot routine in order. Yesterday was a disaster. Begin,” Qiren said, moving off the dance floor, which again, Wei Ying thought was a hilarious reverie. He then paused, almost stern, as he caught a familiar name. He had almost forgotten about Jin Zixuan.

_What other place would a peacock go but the spotlight? Too bad you’re just a backup dancer. _Wei Ying could’ve glared but it was too much work. Zixuan had impregnated his shijie when she was 18, fourteen years ago. He had been sixteen at that time and the grudge still stayed. Zixuan was four years his senior. He knew he recognized him, just that the peacock pretended he didn’t.

Just as they were getting in their places, a dark haired boy with nervous eyes walked to his left. He must’ve been Huaisang. The man boy made an ‘o’ with his mouth and pointed to Wei Ying’s shirt.

“They’re pretty scary. Do you like them?” The man boy asked. Wei Ying found the his voice rather soft and innocent, so he swallowed his distaste for someone had recognized the band.

“Do I love them? Was that the question? Your hair is a look. Metal is in, my dude,” Wei Ying patted him on the back for Huaisang’s hair was shorter on one side than it was the other. He had a long right fringe that would fall in front of his eye.

“Oh… thank you!” Huaisang replied innocently, a bright smile across his cheeks. Wei Ying was thankful that the boy didn’t flush. He didn’t know what to do when people blushed. Huaisang then, seemed to like compliments. He would remember to give them more.

When the music started, Wangji was the one to begin. It seemed that after his initial solo dance, his right hand would twirl with an extended pinky before there was a pause, and Jiang Cheng would start. It took Wei Ying just about ten minutes before he memorized the chorus dance. He had after all, followed Xichen’s music despite not wanting to. He’s seen every performance, every video, even the dance video. He basically already knew the dance.

“I know you’re overwhelmed right now, but on queue, I want you to start what you know,” Manager Lan said to him. Wei Ying nodded, not intimidated in the slightest. Yet, when his turn came and they needed to hit the floor, he had forgotten that his pants were covered in zippers. As soon as he hit the ground, he stayed there in pain.


	3. Second Row

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wen Chao’s face flashed with mischief, throwing his hand into the air as if to volunteer.
> 
> Someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story will be keeping the dynamic of the characters and what persecuted them but in a modern setting. (I refuse to kill Jzx though he will live!)

“You are so embarrassing!” Jiang Cheng was yelling at him, who had to borrow one of Wangji’s pants to finish the practice.

“I know right? The pants were so long. He’s too tall for his own good,” Wei Ying replied, sipping on orange juice from a child’s juice box.

“I meant your falling. Who told you to wear those pants?”

“The aesthetic gods.”

“Kill them.”

“Jiang Cheng! That’s treason. You’ll have ugly clothes for the rest of your life. Starting now. Why would you wear that coat? It’s so…”

“It’s so…what? Is it bad?” Jiang Cheng started taking his coat off, throwing it at his brother. Wei Ying stuck his arms through the holes and smiled.

“Do I look like an idol yet?”

“Oh, shut up! Gimme’ that,” he yelled, tugging on the sleeve. Just then, Huaisang came out with some ice.

“Hi, brother Wei, I was wondering after you slipped on your zipper, if you needed ice. I brought some for your knee.” The shorter man boy went to sit beside Wei Ying, handing it to him, his voice small and shy. Wei Ying _did_ slip, when the routine required that they were on their knees. His zipper not only put a hole in his knee, it sent him rolling forward until his chest hit the ground. He found the entire thing hilarious because he wasn’t allowed to practice until he was better. Manager Lan was furious.

“Thanks, Huaisang, what a pal,” Wei Ying said, putting the bagged ice on his knee, earning a glare from Jiang Cheng on his right.

“Those routines are so hard. It’s no wonder you fell. Maybe we can help each other out. I’m possibly the worst dancer here.”

“You can’t be that bad if they keep you,” Wei Ying laughed.

“Oh no, brother Xichen knows my brother, Mingjue. My brother paid management to let me in.”

“Like _the_ Nie Minjue? The CEO? That’s _your_ brother?”

“Yep! Brother Xichen hasn’t accepted any of the money, but he took me in gladly, because they’re good friends.”

“Company took it. Only reason he’s still here,” Jiang Cheng remarked, unphased by the harshness of his words. Huaisang wasn’t affected either, just nodding at it.

“Well if anyone’s going first, it’ll be me,” laughed Wei Ying. “I’m not here to stay long anyways. I have bigger dreams.”

“Bigger than Lan Xichen?” Huaisang asked, amazed.

“One day! I’m going to form a metal band and be even bigger than brother Xichen! Until then, I’m going to be the top dancer.”

He heard footsteps behind him, turning to see Lan Wangji walking away after hearing what he had just said. Huaisang stared at Wei Ying, frozen with terror, but the metalhead merely shrugged. If anyone had a problem with his dreams, they could come to him personally.

He came face first with it when he returned to the studio under Manager Lan’s orders. One man, face slanted with refusal, stared directly at Wei Ying. His hair was light brown, rather short, not even past his ears. It was a bit spikey, and many could’ve called him handsome if they stared for a long time. Wei Ying took a glance and decided that he was ugly.

“Just who do you think you are?” The man asked, though Wei Ying was sure they were both nobodies in the industry.

“The grease on your pan. Wen Chao, right? Look, I know you’re worried about my knee but don’t lose face, Chao Chao. I’m all better,” Wei Ying joked, walking past him without glancing back. Without sparing him another look, he simply said, “places.”

He found that Wen Chao’s place was far in the back row, row four to be exact. It was embarrassing. He even recalled that Manager Lan had made a remark about a certain someone, but he ignored it with some degree of respect.

“We’re trying something different today,” Manager Lan said, entering with grace and glasses. Wei Ying didn’t remember how idol managers were so involved in the back crew, but he didn’t complain. He found Manager Lan’s temper something of amusement.

“Because you boys have been utterly disappointing, we’re going to change how we view these routines. We’re going to use different tracks, and I want each of you to free style. Loosen up, express yourself, and we can review how we can tackle these together.” He said it kindly, but Wei Ying knew he meant that their talent would be reviewed again to see if they were still worthy; in other words, he wanted to see if Wei Ying was as good as Lan Xichen said without being so direct.

“Any volunteers to start?” Manager Lan asked, starting the music. Everyone froze as the familiar track hit their ears, a song from the teen idol Ah Qing, a little girl of barely 18 years. She had emerged just two years ago and gained a large audience. Now everyone spoke of her, all while she was still a high schooler.

This room was full of grown men.

Wen Chao’s face flashed with mischief, throwing his hand into the air as if to volunteer.

Someone else.

He pointed at Wei Ying with a large knowing grin on his face before he spoke up, “Manager Lan, how about we give the stage to our new recruit? Surely, if he’s as good as everyone says, he can even dance to Ah Qing’s tunes. Let’s give him a try.”

Wei Ying didn’t lose face, but he caught Zixuan rolling his eyes at Wen Chao for being so petty. For once, the metalhead could agree with him. Jiang Cheng’s expression was hard. If Wei Ying lost face, he would too.

“Why of course. Afterwards, why don’t you show me how it’s done, brother Wen? Surely, you’d do this much better than me,” Wei Ying said, walking to the dance floor just as Wangji entered. He was in the middle of talking to the choreographer who should’ve been the one yelling in Lan Qiren’s place. Of course, Wangji wouldn’t be asked to free style, but Wei Ying was curious as to what the lead dancer would do.

“Lan Zhan, lan zhan! Watch me!” He smiled, jumping on his toes. Wangji didn’t ignore him, but he didn’t pay attention either, taking a seat by one of the tables as he tried to figure out where to place Wei Ying in the formation alongside the choreographer. In his peripheral, he watched the man to see if he was worthy of a place at all.

When the tune restarted, Wei Ying threw himself into the ground, hugging his legs. It was a slow song. He began to outstretch as the beats piled up. As the rhythm dropped, he pulled his legs over his head, while on his stomach, then was standing again. He moved in disordered frantic steps, swinging his arms and body to the emotion in the song, his body twitching, his expression serious. Unpredictable as he sauntered, falling into the ground, rolling, and flipping into the air. As the chorus bled, he formed a bridge, lowering himself until his scalp hit the floor, then he slid forward slowly until he was lying as a corpse on the ground.

_Contemporary dance, _Wangji thought, finding that he was no longer writing or looking at his notes. He stared in awe at the chaotic movements of the man.

When Ah Qing hit a high note, Wei Ying threw himself into a side spin in the air, and as his feet touched the floor, he flung himself int the air one more. His toes keeping him steady, his left foot thrown over his head. He curled, grasped his heart, his expression uncontrolled and distraught. His violent steps took him backward as he backflipped into a half split, straightening himself before he dropped, his arms like a bowl around him, cupping the air. He threw those hands into his face, changing his expression as his hands slid down and he dropped on to his back just as the music died out, his hair sprawled out, crimson and black. He laid there unmoving.

The audience stared in silence, not knowing what to say. They never seen such a form in the pop industry, the impulse movements tugging at their own hearts. Wen Chao had bit him tongue, his ears turning pink as he wondered how to react.

Suddenly, someone clapped. Three whole claps. Everyone turned to see Wangji with his hands together.

“Second row, support Jiang Wanyin,” the man said, jotting it onto his clipboard. Second row, the row right before the spotlight.

He had already been recognized as one of the leads.

\---

Wei Ying and Jiang Cheng had gone to dance school when Wei Ying was adopted. Fengmian had said that it was a good chance for the two to bond, but Wei Ying had been an eccentric child and improvised other forms. They ended out going to different classes though Wei Ying still pretty much knew the western dance forms that Jiang Cheng sported. They needed one semester with ballet that Jiang had hated, but Wei Ying had appreciated. In the end, Jiang Cheng gave up ballet when it was over, but Wei Ying continued to add ballet to his form; hence, his flexibility and frantic elegance.

Wei Ying was the talk of the dance crew, everyone contemplating if they absolutely loved it or if it was a complete disaster. Wen Chao couldn’t seem to decide until someone above him did, but he refused to praise. He pursed his lips and said nothing, unable to risk face by hating the performance.

Jiang Cheng had breathed a sigh of relief, but now his disdain seemed to return. In just two nights, Wei Ying was his equal again. Not only did he not have to audition, he also got his rank in such a short amount of time. How could he face his parents when they called this weekend?

“Anyone can jerk around like they’re a dying fish,” Wen Chao eventually said aloud, unable to keep himself silent. His lips looked almost swollen from sucking them in to keep quiet.

“Anyone can pop like they’re being electrocuted,” Wei Ying retorted, earning wide eyes all around him. He simply smiled while Jiang Cheng’s jaw dropped, rushing toward him and poking him in the shoulder.

“You can’t say that about Brother Lan’s choreo!” His brother whispered loud enough where everyone heard. Wen Chao seemed so affected that he was unable to form words. He sniffed sharply and squared his shoulders.

“You have some big dreams, Wei Wuxian! Looking to outmatch Lan Xichen himself. Just who do you think you are?” He asked, watching as Jiang Cheng’s face paled at him having had overheard them.

“I very much think I’m Wei Wuxian,” Wei Ying responded. “I’m not looking to knock him down either. I’m looking for an elevator, Chao.”

“You think you’ll make it in this industry? You don’t know a thing about it!”

“I don’t see why you’re yelling. You’re right. I don’t know a single thing about this industry, and quite frankly, I don’t care either. You mad? Fix it. Remove me or get out of the way. Decaf, brother.” Wei Ying held up his cold brew and nodded his chin, unaffected. Wen Chao on the other hand turned so red from fury that a migraine formed, his knuckles white as he shook them by his side.

“Alright, maybe we should go on a walk,” Jiang Cheng suddenly said, trying to ease the situation. Wei Ying got up without saying anything, waiting by the door for Jiang Cheng to catch up like his brother would incessantly have to chase behind him.

Outside, Jiang Cheng sighed loudly until Wei Ying turned to look at him, headphones in but his movements had been distracting. The red streaked man tipped his headphone the way he always did, further angering Jiang Cheng.

“Stop listening to that rubbish. Don’t you know who you are now? You can’t just,” Jiang Cheng sighed again. “You represent brother Lan now. You have to be careful who you pick fights with. You’re holding the company image.”

“I don’t care about the company, and you still owe me lunch, remember? I totally got in.”

“Forget the lunch! Listen to me!”

“_I am._” There was a hint of irritation in Wei Ying’s tone that Jiang Cheng hadn’t noticed before, and as he did, it took him aback. He raised both eyebrows, opening his mouth to say something but decided against it.

“I just can’t stand this commercial image shit, okay?” Wei Ying eventually said. “Like I respect big bro Lan, I do, but I’m not changing just because I carry his name now. And I don’t know what’s up that Wen Chao’s ass but I’m not putting up with that either.”

“The Wen’s own a big modelling agency. Don’t get on their bad side.”

“He better have some connections with the Nie’s security company before I meet him in the street. That’s not how you talk to people.”

“Why are you even here, Wei Ying? You hate pop music.”

“I do, but I don’t hate Lan Xichen. I’ll admit that much. The rest can go. And two, I’m here because of you.” And just like that, Wei Ying’s mischievous grin returned. He nudged Jiang Cheng in the shoulder, pointing to the restaurant he wanted to go to.

“Were you serious about being on top?” Jiang Cheng asked quietly though he knew the answer to it.

“In bed or in the industry?”

Jiang Cheng hit him as his brother laughed, opening the restaurant door.

“I’ll tell you what, Jiang Cheng. As long as I’m amused, I’ll be there. When I’m bored, it’s yours.”

And that was true too. Jiang Cheng would always lose. Though it was unintentional, he had stabbed an old wound in Jiang Cheng’s chest. Wei Ying didn’t even have to try; he’d simply get it. But Jiang Cheng was sure he had an upper-hand. He had passion, diligence and determination, knew the choreography and already had a fanbase. He could win. He could win before Wei Ying got bored like he had earned it.


	4. Industry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He knew if Wangji tried to remove him, he would easily do it. This was his competition. The second gem of the company, the little brother. He was so pretty.

The following month was a brutal one as Wei Ying perfected the routine. He was oddly very complacent about doing the formations the way he was told to. He listened to the choreographer obediently, improvised very little. Soon, his formation was as geometric as was required of it. Wen Chao watched from behind him, seething that he himself was in the fourth row while the new guy was accepted into the second.

Everyone seemed to wait for Wei Ying to burst into his laughs and comments as he usually would, but he was passive. Xichen seemed to watch him, eyebrows furrowed as if he just wished that he would break the formation and act on his own accord. Wangji’s thumb was tightly pressed into the face of the clipboard. Everyone held their breath as he obeyed them.

Finally.

“How _boring,_” Wei Ying commented, as he followed Wangji’s dance movements. He echoed him perfectly then immediately laid on the floor. Wangji parted his lips as if to sigh in relief, but nothing came out, his expression still rigid and unmoving. He simply looked down, watching Wei Ying whine.

“There. I perfected the routine. Why don’t you ask me what I can do to improve it?” Wei Ying asked, holding an arm up, waiting for Wangji to pull him up. He never did.

“Well, _someone’s_ going to have to help me to my feet or else we’re just stuck dancing like robots. This is so generic!” He whined, rolling on the ground until he reached Jiang Cheng’s feet and reached out again to be pulled up. Jiang Cheng grumbled as he pulled him up, surrendering in order to save face.

“Child,” Zixuan said, not looking in his direction, saying it just because it needed to be said.

“Excuse me? You’re gonna’ have to say that to my face. I’m hard of hearing,” Wei Ying said, walking himself over to his brother in law.

“I said you act like a child,” Zixuan snapped. He was located in the third row and just as agitated as everyone else, it seemed.

“That’s because I’m _young_,” Wei Ying said, ignoring the fact that he was thirty. “I don’t mean to be rude but, you have a kid and everything. Don’t you think you’re a little old to still be doing this?”

Zixuan shoved him, sending him backwards into Jiang Cheng who was in front of him in a second.

“Brother Jin!” Jiang Cheng called, holding his hands out, trying to reason with him.

“Stop,” Wangji said quietly. Everyone turned to face him as he said, “No fighting.” And that was final. Nothing else was said, just a roll of the eyes and backs turned to one another. Wei Ying was back to acting as though nothing had happened while he skipped back to the lead dancer.

“Lan Zhan,” he called, earning a glare that didn’t look like a glare but just a common stare filled with icicles.

“Watch me. Surely you’ll see reason.”

“Pathetic.”

“Don’t be like that!” Wei Ying pouted. “Just watch, you’ll love it.”

“We’d love to see it,” Xichen said, coming to stand next to his brother. The dance studio had been quiet in the past few weeks. Hearing him complain was a breath of fresh air. Besides, there _was_ something missing in the choreography. Wangji stared at his brother, disapproving but not obvious. He moved out of the way, pushing his glasses up to watch.

Wei Ying began just as Wen Chao scoffed.

Leaving his left foot steady in the middle, he formed a circle around it with his right foot, twirling without faltering as he spun three times in the row quickly. He shot his arms out the way he was supposed to in the original choreography, but arched them until they fell down gracefully, bending slightly at the knees as he ran forward, throwing himself into the ground but catching himself on his hands, forcing his body into a summersault. He formed the angles in his arms and popped but added drama by taking his body along as if it was pulled with string, adding expression to his face instead of the stoic, didn’t move his feet but dragged them along frantically. Instead of the zigzags of the original piece, he curled instead, twirling and adding motion to his hands, fingers crawling on fingers, twisting of wrists, hand play. He formed an oval with his arms and stepped through them, sliding into the floor and crawling eerily from the bridge of that song that slowed.

He paused, queued them to turn off the music and looked at the audience for a reaction. Jiang Cheng bit his lower lip, but consternation drew on his eyebrows. He had loved it. Huaisang clapped happily, but then awkwardly looked at everyone else.

“That was so emotional,” Xichen said with a smile. “I like how powerful it makes the piece.”

Wangji walked back to the main floor and stabled his foot in the middle before he formed the circle. He spun twice, then spun three times for practice. He looked back up at all of the dancers, waiting for them to mimic him mimic someone else. He didn’t have to order them back to the dance floor. When they arrived, he looked at Wei Ying for instructions.

Xichen stood beside Wei Ying, taking in what they would officially be adding. Manager Lan watched thoughtfully, scribbling notes for the choreographer later on. At the end of the day, the routine would be entirely different.

\---

His first performance was coming, and he was behind on homework. He had stayed up last night to copy all of his classmate’s notes since he was absent for a week, and Manager Lan needed to write him a note so he wasn’t dropped. On about two hours of sleep, he entered the Gusu music company and curled himself in the cushions of the rolling chair, his head resting on the back cushion, his knees close to his chest. He still managed to fit despite his height.

“Up. We must practice,” came Wangji’s voice. He hadn’t exactly looked at the man, just at his clipboard the way he usually did. No one knew what the reaction would be to the alteration in choreography, besides, fans had already learned the previous.

Wei Ying whined, slipping a leg from under his arms to row himself over to the lead dancer without looking up.

“Spare me, Lan Zhan, I’m so tired.” And with that, he yawned.

“Get up,” Wangji said again. He was starting to think perhaps allowing Wei Ying’s changes would affect the fans substantially. If he wasn’t perfect on the stage, everything would be ruined. They needed perfection. This wasn’t it.

“I’m hungover,” Wei Ying admitted, because he was. He had needed the alcohol last night for lyrics, having had been too stressed to think up proper verses. Not that he should’ve spent more time writing personal lyrics than doing his school work. He had managed to finish both _and_ get drunk.

“Get up or you’re fired,” Wangji plainly said, his voice still unaffected.

“You wouldn’t fire me,” Wei Ying tested, but he looked up from the chair.

“I will count,” Wangji warned, but his expression stayed the same.

“How many do I get?”

“Two.”

“I only get two seconds?” Wei Ying groaned, climbing up as Wangji counted one, moving aside to keep a distance from him as he stood. Wei Ying squinted at him for being so tall, almost an entire head taller than him. He knew if Wangji tried to remove him, he would easily do it. This was his competition. The second gem of the company, the little brother. He was so _pretty_.

Wei Ying blinked at his thoughts.

He took another glance, porcelain skin, golden glaring eyes, silky black hair and a frost of an energy. He could feel Wangji from afar, a touch of ice melting as it ran down his arms. Goose bumps came all of the sudden, and Wei Ying pulled away without the other man noticing what had just happened.

_He’s like a ghost. A four eyed one, _Wei Ying thought, but as it came, he found his thoughts rather funny and snorted, earning a near frown from the other.

“Stop laughing. We must practice,” Wangji responded.

“You’re funny,” the other said, one hand on his hip.

“You take me for a joke,” Wangji told him seriously. “You want to get to the top, correct? Watch yourself. You may push Wanyin down, but you will not touch brother. Get to your position,” he ordered, and with that, he placed down the clipboard and glared where Wei Ying couldn’t see.

_Of all the people to overhear me, it was this one, _Wei Ying thought, but a sneaky smirk stood on his features. Wangji may have been frosty cold, but Wei Ying was a fire. He could melt anything. And he would surely burst into flames to get what he wanted.

He wanted the industry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally did not proof read this because i'm late for work so sorry *SCREAMS*


	5. I Belong With Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It seemed Lan Xichen had credited him on his weibo feed as the creator of the new choreography, and welcomed him formally to the group. By time tomorrow, everyone would know his name.
> 
> Wei Ying was afraid that would still not be enough.

It was the day of the performance and Wei Ying’s shoes were so new that they kept squeaking when he walked. He was dressed like Jiang Cheng dressed like Huaisang dressed like Zixuan dressed like Wen Chao dressed like Wangji and everyone else. And to make matters worse, they needed to wear a black face mask to cover half of their faces.

_I want brother Xixi’s outfit, _Wei Ying thought, looking at Xichen clad in white and chains. Wei Ying loved that he was in black, but dressing like Zixuan just wasn’t it. Dressing like Wen Chao just wasn’t right.

_I look like a fucking ninja, _he thought. Besides, putting a mask on Wangji made his eyes twice as intense and his ice twice as cold. It was only then that Wei Ying recalled that all of Xichen’s dancers wore masks at all times. It kept the attention on Xichen since his dancers had big names even though people knew their identities. They certainly weren’t a sight for sore eyes.

He sighed, straightening his clothing with his hands as a text came in from his nephew, Jin Ling.

[ Don’t screw this up!!! ]

18h:05

Wei Ying snickered. Jin Ling was more nervous than he was. After all, his dad, and both of his uncles were now Lan Xichen’s dancers. As the Jin and Jiang heir, it was important that his family looked perfect. At least that’s how the fourteen year old thought.

Wei Ying wasn’t nervous in the slightest. If anything, this was the test for the real thing. One day, _he_ would be the main act. He took a deep breath for good energy, and found Jiang Cheng pacing.

“Jiang Cheng, calm down. It’ll be fine,” he tried.

“What if they hate it? What will other companies think? This was a terrible idea.”

“Drama is always better,” Wei Ying smiled, because his dancing technique _did_ add drama, added emotional, added flavor, everything it had been lacking. “Besides, gotta’ keep brother XiXi on top if I’m gonna’ take his mic. Need to make sure no one gets to him before I do.”

He heard a soft chuckle from Xichen behind him. The pop idol put a hand on Wei Ying’s shoulder and smiled.

“I appreciate the thought, brother Wei.” He wasn’t at all resentful, voice elegant and light. Maybe he truly saw Wei Ying as the rookie that he was, or he was truly as kind as can be. Unheard of in this industry but it was rumor that kind people actually existed.

“How are you related to that Wangji? He’s like a polar bear and you’re Jin Ling’s teddy bear,” Wei Ying asked no one in particular. He stretched and went to fist bump everyone for good luck. When he arrived at Wangji, Wangji had ignored him and went to stand next to Xichen.

“He hates you,” Jiang Cheng told Wei Ying who grinned back in return.

“Nobody hates me. They either like me a lot or they despise me.”

“Then he despises you.”

“No, he doesn’t. I know when someone despises me,” Wei Ying said looking in Wen Chao’s direction. He had seen hate, choosing the path that he did. People looked at him like he was a monster, like he worshipped the devil, like he sacrificed kids. Wangji just looked pleasantly annoyed, and that was wildly funny.

“Okay, friend bitches, let’s knock em’ dead!” Wei Ying yelled, as they trailed out onto the stage.

\---

The stage was enormous compared to anything Wei Ying had ever stood on. He had small performances at school where no one appeared, but this was an entire different story. There must’ve been around fifty thousand people surrounding the dome stadium. Lan Xichen could only book the largest venues after all. Wei Ying thought his knees went weak, but it had been adrenaline, pumping through his system and causing his ears to ring. When the lights flicked off, they took their positions as fans chanted Xichen’s name. When the music started, the light found only Wangji as fans screamed his name. So many people stood up, jumping from their seats. Next was Jiang Cheng and him.

“Jiang Wanyin!” The girls and guys shrieked, but no one seemed to know who Wei Ying was yet. He hid a smile under his mask knowing that one day they would. 

Jin Zixuan’s row was next. His name was louder than the rest of them, being the big actor that he was. Wei Ying knew Jin Ling was in the crowd with Yanli, their voices blending in the crowd into one large mass of adoration. After that, Wei Ying zoned out, the lights pouring onto his scalp and into his eyes. He soaked it into his system just as they took their positions and all of the lights came back on.

They placed their left foot in the middle and swirled around it with their right. Already, everyone had silenced. It wasn’t what they would’ve originally done for the choreography.

Then came Xichen’s voice, his soft tease of a whisper as he appeared in all white and the audience erupted into shouts and screams. Everyone stood up, some people on their seats until security told them to either sit down or leave.

As they performed, the crowd was becoming more and more confused. More than half of them had already learned the original routine. They would usually dance along. What was this? The dance did not blend into the song, rather, it was louder than it. It was charged and fiery, heated with the title track: FIRE. With its outbursts of emotion, eyes were glued onto the backup dancers rather than Xichen despite his clad in white attire, his voice disintegrating into the background. But Wei Ying knew that, so he had the dancers lower themselves, sway into a crawl as they lifted Xichen into the air and he would lie across as if sacrificed, then the darkness of the dancers would devour him, and the song would end. When the track completely finished, only Lan Xichen was left standing as if an angel had defeated the evil dwellers, his face a marvel, his clothing drenched in victory. The fire had died out and he was the lone survivor.

Everyone stood up to applaud him if they had been sitting, the others cheered aloud, their light sticks in their hands, fan signs held high up, hearts beating wildly in their chests. The lights slowly died out again as the performers descended the stairs to the back of the stage.

Wei Ying already missed the lights in his eyes, the voices in his ears, the fame. It didn’t matter if he was a measly backup dancer; he felt alive and resurrected all at once. The grin on his face didn’t even disappear after he had taken off the mask, after he had changed attire and wiped the sweat from his temple. A text from Jin Ling came in.

[…What happened to the choreo? That absolutely worked!! ]

18h30

_See? Even Jin Ling can see that the original dance was lacking, _but did everyone else feel the same? He scratched his chin thoughtfully and changed from sneakers to a pair of combat boots again. He wanted to shower but he also wanted to perspire with the heat of his fans, Xichen’s fans, fans that didn’t belong to him. Jealousy. He cringed at himself, but the smile wouldn’t fade. This is it. It’s what he wanted, but he didn’t feel quite right in his skin. His pants were too loose, his shirt clinging to his back, his hair tied up and face obscured. The darkness in his eyes could not be noticed. The stage lights seemed to miss them entirely.

He needed more.

[ Oh my God, YOU were the one who made the new choreo? ]

18h32

But how could Jin Ling know that? It only took another moment for a classmate to text him with utmost admiration. It seemed Lan Xichen had credited him on his weibo feed as the creator of the new choreography, and welcomed him formally to the group. By time tomorrow, everyone would know his name.

Wei Ying was afraid that would still not be enough.

\---

When Wei Ying entered his university the following day, eyes that usually shunned him seemed to glow with delight. Now everyone seemed to know who Wei Wuxian was, the second brother from the Jiang family, the one that was better. Now it seemed that he was meticulous, versed in instrumentals and even took to vocal courses, was light on his feet and sentimental to the affections of music. His father was Fengmian and mother Yu Ziyuan, his adoptive parents anyway, seemed to register his expertise since he was young and took him in for his talents. He took part in many extracurricular activities that included the arts and excelled in his studies.

It was all true and bullshit all at once. He had always been that way, and no one actually knew the story of his adoptive parents. Wei Ying understood what it meant to be brought up from nothing, living on the streets after his mother passed away. He had run away from the orphanage and met _the_ Jiang Fengmian while running away from alley dogs. He clung onto Fengmian’s leg and cried until the man picked him up.

Fengmian, the head of the Jiang corporation of appliances, decided that they had enough room in their huge estate for another child though Yu Ziyuan hated the idea.

That landed Wei Ying where he was today. He had taken vocal lessons along with his dance lessons, took art lessons and studied classical prose, ancient poetry – all of it to please his parents. When he finally couldn’t please his adoptive mother, when he realized that day would never come, he became himself. At thirteen, he began to explore different stages of music. At fifteen he started his rap phase. At eighteen, he snuck his first ever tattoo. At twenty, he painted his nails black and started listening to metal. At twenty one, he dyed red streaks into his hair, got three more tattoos, changed his aesthetics and tried smoking for the first time. At twenty four, he had a full sleeve of tattoos, a lotus inked onto the side of his neck, a piercing, and had quit smoking. At twenty five, he dropped out of university and started his drinking issues. He was passionate about music and found himself befriending many metal freaks like himself. People called him goth and he loved it. At twenty eight, he dumped his third girlfriend because she didn’t understand his passion. At twenty-nine, he crashed his Bugatti and was kicked out of the estates by Mother Yu. In return, Fengmian bought him a mini mansion to live in on the other side of the city. He went back to university. On his thirtieth birthday this year, they, Fengmian, had gifted him with a red Ferrari and he decided to audition to Diabolism Records, but instead he fucked it up and went to Gusu music label and became Lan Xichen’s little dancer boy.

No one knew his story the way he did. He snickered, playing with his labret piercing and contemplated getting an eyebrow piercing on his way home. Everyone loved him now, but not the way he wanted. He wanted to be loved for the wreck he was, not the false sugarcoated nonsense everyone was giving him. He was thirty, not a famous vocal, still in university taking more electives than he needed and majoring aimlessly in business to help with the Jiang company. He didn’t need to, but it was “highly encouraged.” He walked past everyone’s ignorance and turned to see a group of college kids around a rather young boy. The kid must’ve been somewhere in his high school years with long light brown hair, rather “long for a boy.” He had silvering grey streaks, two locks of hair that’d fall into his eyes. He was pretty tall and his expression nervous, eyes large and innocent. The most important part, there was a guitar on his back. No, it was a bass, the tread board was longer.

_Must be one of those kids getting their college credits early, _Wei Ying thought, because high schools were now enrolling their students into programs to get a head start. Wei Ying ignored the circumstances of being outnumbered. The boy was obviously being bullied for very much the same reason everyone wanted to bully Wei Ying for if he hadn’t been from the Jiang family.

“Don’t you think you’re a little old to be commenting on a whole different generation? Move and let him to class before I knock you back into high school,” Wei Ying threatened, his expression playful as he pulled the boy from their grips. The boy moved forward nervously, standing beside him where it felt a little safer.

One of the others sucked their teeth at him. “Know your kind when you see them?”

“Aren’t we all Chinese? I wish I could be sixteen again, would’ve fucked up harder,” Wei Ying responded naturally. His grip never left the silver streaked boy’s shoulder, tightening a bit for comfort. He could see the boy’s hands shaking. Anxiety.

“Leave him alone before he gets his family on you,” one of the other warned. The last thing anyone wanted was the Jiang’s breathing down their neck and the economy.

“Leave my family out of it. You’re dealing with a Wei not a Jiang. Take it up with me. If anyone’s gonna’ get you for fucking around, it’s me, not my Pa. I’m old enough for your respect, have some or get out of the way.” Wei Ying’s expression darkened but he didn’t lash out. Besides, he was now representing the Gusu music label and the Lan Xichen.

When he turned to walk away, he came face to face with a stern set of eyes, high cheek bones and composed expression though her eyebrows drew down in a frown. She looked past him, staring at the group of boys suspiciously. Her eyebrows drew forward, one arching in question while her lips pinched together tightly, annoyed.

“Is there a problem?” She asked them, then looked at the silver streaked boy beside Wei Ying. She regarded Wei Ying with a nod and nothing more.

The boys shook their head, their faces instantly paling while Wei Ying thought about where he had seen the girl before.

“Next time don’t block the door. It’s hard for Wen Ning to get out.” Her voice was critical and sharp. Wei Ying instantly thought her beautiful.

_Wen? Like Wen Chao? _The Wen family had two heirs, and there wasn’t a Ning. Where had they come from? Then it suddenly clicked, causing his fingers to twitch on impulse to snap.

_It’s Wen Qing and Wen Ning, the cousins. Also, the two models of the Wen family, _he thought, his lips curling in amusement. It was too bad Wen Chao and Wen Xu were rather inappropriate looking when it came to taste. Wen Chao was too severe looking. It was almost maniacal. Wen Xu was unfortunately plain. For a family that owned a modelling agency, it was comical by itself. At least they had two beautiful cousins.

When Wen Qing reached out to bring Wen Ning along with her, something caught Wei Ying’s eyes. A dab of black, right by the create of her thumb and index finger.

It was a music clef inked onto her skin where it could be seen like she wasn’t afraid of what society thought of her. He watched her disappear down the hall, a pair of drumsticks visibly sticking out of her bookbag. He couldn’t help but think that the two had left him behind, that he belonged with them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Giving a longer chapter! Thought i'd bring in all the characters so here's to the two Wen babies ;w; ♥  
Btw, please please please look up contemporary dance if you are not sure what it is as Wei Ying will look like a dying fish if not. It is not "modern dance" that's a different form. Thank you for reading still!!
> 
> Did not beta this. For some reason I write right before work and have no time to proof read or anything so... sorry for the mistakes.


	6. Sweet Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wangji adorned one of the rarity of voices, sweet and hollow all at once. Wei Ying’s own voice was a taffy. When sweetness met another, a fully candy could be formed to the individual’s taste. He liked the sugar that they had coated together, even if it came with bitterness.

The first thing that occurred in the following events of practice was how Wei Ying had adopted a habit of maintaining a record of tardiness. With a melody trickling in his throat, he swallowed water to silence himself, a few yawns to the door. Before he could touch the door knob, the door swung open before him, a set of cold jade eyes staring back.

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Ying called, more like a cheer, one fist held out for a bop he knew would not be returned. Wangji ignored it as expected, his expression the same, his glasses resting on his nose as if it wanted nothing more than to provoke Wei Ying into calling him a “four eyes.”

“Your tardiness will not be tolerated any longer,” Wangji began, but Wei Ying held up a hand to silence him much to his disapproval.

“I understand, I understand, but I have class right before this, and I’d take you to be someone who cares direly about education since you seem…adequate,” Wei Ying chuckled at his own comment, but continued nevertheless. “And I have band practice with my classmates right after.”

“Your presence is required _here_ and voluntary there. Make your choice,” Wangji retorted, obvious contempt that wasn’t visible.

“Ouch,” Wei Ying said, but pushed past him and ignored the statement. He entered with a glare from Jiang Cheng and a fist bump from Huaisang.

“Alright, bitch friends, let’s start,” Wei Ying announced.

“Inappropriate,” came Wangji, approaching to stop his practice.

“Agreed,” Manager Lan began, which sent a shiver up Wei Ying’s spine with the simple utter of his voice. “You will be staying after for every hour that you were late.”

“But I was three hours late,” Wei Ying protested, the edge of a pout already laminated on the curve of his lips. He stomped as if his years had abandoned him and his hungry band dreams had never existed.

“Stop that immediately,” Manager Lan snapped. His clipboard which had been in both hands had shifted to just one, causing Wei Ying to jump before the shorter Huaisang who pulled Jiang Cheng in front of him. Jiang Cheng sighed loudly, for Manager Lan would do nothing to them, and it was out of the man’s character to throw things.

“I can’t stay today. I need to go make real music,” Wei Ying said from behind the two of them. At this, Manager Lan lost his composure completely, hauling the clipboard with perfect aim though Wei Ying pulled Huaisang in for the hit. The shorter boy cried out just as the clipboard agitated his temple, leaving a red hue on the pale layer of his skin.

“Look what you’ve done, you insolent – “ Manager Lan was interrupted.

“Well, if you go throwing things, it’s sure to hit something. Manager Lan, please be careful. Huaisang’s from a pretty known family. We wouldn’t want a scandal of abuse getting out there,” Wei Ying joked, laughing into his fist and massaging Hauisang’s head with his other. Manager Lan was just about to color his cheeks red with anger when Wangji suddenly approached Wei Ying, and bent down to retrieve the clipboard. He walked it over to an unoccupied desk and went to the wracks to get his bag.

“Woah woah woah,” Wei Ying began again. “Lan Zhan, wait, where are you going?”

“Home,” Wangji replied without looking at him.

“What? You can’t go home. You’re the _lead_. We literally need you here.”

“You do not mean that.”

“I do!”

“You can lead them. You are attempting to reach the top, aren’t you? Call it practice,” Wangji replied, his voice still cold and distant, his expression unwavering. He walked himself to the door just as Wei Ying ran after him, taking hold of the back of his dress shirt and yanking.

“Let go,” Wangji demanded, though it sounded like a statement. He pulled himself forward and found that Wei Ying’s hold was sturdy, on par with his. When he yanked harder, he discerned that Wei Ying was made to take a step forward but didn’t lose his footing. Still, he didn’t let go.

“As the lead, you are required to be here. Those are the rules. If not, I would’ve taken Jiang Cheng to grab a lunch!” Wei Ying whined, for Jiang Cheng was still the second lead.

“Pathetic,” Wangji replied, for sure this time, he yanked with a soft stomp of his foot that didn’t appear at all malicious, but it sent Wei Ying forward enough to fall into him. The stumble, for no reason at all, for Wangji was surely a man that was alert of his surroundings, had sent him into the ground along with the other. He had not expected Wei Ying to fall. He didn’t expect himself to fall either. The fall was elegant on Wangji’s part for his arms caught his fall as he descended, Wei Ying however, fell with his elbow in the man’s back, sending a shiver of pain up Wangji’s spine. Under him, Wangji bit into his lip in the descent, tearing into flesh and causing blood to take to his lip. He nearly brought his lower lids up into a glare, but avoided the gesture entirely with a, “get off.”

“O-oh, right,” Wei Ying laughed nervously. Climbing off of him, he lent the other a hand that was entirely ignored as Wangji stood back on his feet. Instantly, Wei Ying discerned the cut on his lip, his own eyes widening at the prospect. “I!” He yelled, for he knew nothing else to say. Then he couldn’t help but add the following, “you _are _human after all! You still bleed!”

“Wei Wuxian!” Manager Lan hollered. “You get away from him this instant! Look what you’ve done to his face!” The man was enlarged with fury, stomping over to yank Wei Ying into distance by the shoulders. Wei Ying fake winced, theatrically telling the man that he was in pain.

“Fine fine! I’ll stay away from your star lead! But if he leaves, I’m leaving,” Wei Ying said, pursing his lips and lifting his chin.

“You cannot leave. You must remain in the studio for an extra three hours,” Wangji said, his voice firm like the cut on his lip didn’t agitate him in the slightest. He didn’t look in their direction, just straight ahead like much occupied his thoughts instead of the trickle of annoyance.

“Double standard! I call bullshit! You have to stay too then, because one of the leads needs to always be present while the rest of the backups are practicing to make sure the routine is correct and Jiang Cheng’s not going to stay, so you have to stay with me.” Wei Ying grinned a toothy grin that exhibited his pearly whites, then he laughed, yanking Wangji over by the sleeve and over to the first aid kit. Wangji couldn’t argue because it was the truth. It was their own policy, and Jiang Cheng was only second lead, technically that didn’t work either.

“I can do it,” Wangji said, taking the first aid kit from his hands. Wei Ying instantly snatched it back, taking out the things he needed and then handed it back to the man.

“It’s going to burn a bit so don’t scream, not that you’d be capable of raising your voice even if a killer was chasing after you,” the other was saying, applying alcohol and ointment. Just then, Xichen finally entered, having had taken a break from his own session to check up on the others. He raised both eyebrows with the sight, approaching quickly.

“Wangji, how have you harmed yourself? Are you alright?” He knelt down beside him to inspect the trivial wound, then to Wei Ying, he said, “thank you for taking care of my brother.”

“No problem! I’m here to take care of all the good guys,” Wei Ying said, finding the material of the best humor. He slapped Wangji on the shoulder just to exhibit how funny his comment had been as he stood up, bowing at Xichen.

“Brother Wei, you were late again today. Is everything alright?” Xichen questioned, extending his hand to assist his brother up. Wangji on the other hand, was baffled that Wei Ying not only caused him to bite himself, but the man had also hit him because he found something funny. It didn’t show on the mans face, but Xichen could discern how the glare hid in his pupils. His older brother gave way to a gentle laugh, patting Wangji lightly on the shoulder.

“I had class and band practice before this, like every other time. I actually tried to get here early,” Wei Ying told him.

“By being three hours late?” This was Wangji.

“Details.”

“Make the full image.”

“That’s a good retort. You might be one for argument, Lan Zhan. Now uppity up, we’re already late and I want to get home early. You can still dance with a busted lip, right?”

“Pathetic.”

“Of course,” and Wei Ying smiled at him honestly. If he was forthright, he liked to provoke the other in order to hear his voice. Wangji adorned one of the rarity of voices, sweet and hollow all at once. Wei Ying’s own voice was a taffy. When sweetness met another, a fully candy could be formed to the individual’s taste. He liked the sugar that they had coated together, even if it came with bitterness. Wangji, he knew, pretended to be a cough drop.

\---

Months had escaped and Wei Ying’s fanbase had gained agency. In performances, he fancied blowing them kisses through his black face mask, a clasp over his face much like a germ mask. Each performance was a decoration of occurrences, and Wei Ying had finally begun to numb to them. He was growing tired of their routines again, and tired of the songs. He saw the mic in Xichen’s hand and wanted to take it. Just as the verses were building up to the last chorus, he could see Jiang Cheng lose his footing and slide. Wei Ying instantly fell out of formation, taking a step in front of him to cover his elegant tumble. This however, brought Wei Ying on level with Xichen, the front of the stage. Without further ado, with the fans staring up with confused eyebrows, he snatched off his own mask to reveal his face. His fans, as well as everyone else’s, had an idea of what the man looked like, but not many of them were ready to see Wei Ying’s full disclosure on the stage. His bright eyes, wide smile, and sharp eyebrows were a blend of sensual attire. He had a childish front and a masculine edge that created warmth. With his long hair and bangs falling into his eyes, he was made to appear elegant, fiery and passionate. His grin looked like an amorous challenge.

Wangji went up to meet it. They needed to cover up the slip up. They needed to cover up the fact that the formation was disturbed. He moved to the left of his older brother, Wei Ying on his right. They continued the routine that way until the chorus decreased and leveled into the bridge where their presence dwindled into the background once more. Wangji however, did not remove his germ mask to mimic Wei Ying’s. He did not like it that others knew what he looked like. His pictures were posted nowhere, and he utilized no social media platforms. He was simply known as an existence and an excellent dancer, and that was enough for him. In word of mouth, he would ever be Lan Xichen’s little brother. His brother deserved the glory.

He detested that Wei Ying wanted it as well.

Had the courage enough for it. The man was bold.

Wangji was perhaps italics. He was elegant and pleasing to the eye, and he was an emphasis on every syllable left unsaid. Wei Ying was bold and spoken for. Spoken by what?

Wangji wasn’t focusing. His movements nearly slowed out of motion with Wanyin’s. He quickly recomposed, moving in sync with the other. When the song concluded, Xichen left the stage and went to the back to laugh. He took a deep sip from his water bottle, and then laughed again.

Wei finally released a breath. “You’re not angry?”

“Angry? My word, that was wonderful,” Xichen replied honestly. He wiped a tear from his eye, then looked at the other. “I certainly have to look out, don’t I?”

“That’s not what I meant to do!”

“No no, no need to explain yourself. That was amazing,” Xichen told him, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Brother Wei, you are destined for great things. I can see it.”

“Really? Because I see myself going as downhill as that rapper Xue Yang.”

Xichen paled slightly at the mention of the name. It was like a taboo on the industry, despite being of a different platform. Xue Yang had stolen a large sum of money from a friend of Xichen’s, a veteran idol at that, Xiao Xingchen. After that, the rapper had been arrested on a few occasions.

“Don’t you know your kind when you see it,” Wen Chao told Wei Ying. He was standing so far away, that left Wei Ying only enough to ignore him. But like the man he was, Wei Ying needed the last say.

“Sure do. He’s up there making the cash, and you’re standing so far away I can barely see you, Wen Chao. Come closer, we can practice together. You can show me a few things, _Lead_,” he said sarcastically.

“You!”

“Of course, you’d need to knock Lan Zhan out of the way. I’d like to remind you that that’s my job.”

“You’ve already made your move. Have you made a decision?” Came Wangji, quietly approaching, standing beside him, so quietly he could barely be discerned, but Wei Ying could feel his presence. He waited for the sweetness of the cough drop and smiled when he heard it.

“Glory. Always glory. No matter how I get it, Lead,” Wei Ying responded. He turned to face the other. When he could only see Wangji’s eyes from the stiffness of the mask, he reached over to snatch off the fabric.

“If I’m only staring at your eyes, I’ll forget you’re a little fuddy duddy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost gave up on this story T^T   
In which I begin to incorporate wangxian, and for no reason whatsoever am bad at it *cries*   
Btw, if you're interested, there is a Xue Yang side story [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177470/chapters/47806165) because the Yi City Arc has been my obsession.


	7. Was it called Disappointment?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He pursed his lips and obeyed, but the nervous twitch of annoyance slivered in his stomach. Did the others too, even Wangji’s family, did they understand that the man was not a cough drop? And a bit of him wanted the world to see Wangji’s face.

Wangji appeared to have been severely affected. He quickly snatched the germ mask back, not stomping but seeming like so, as he maneuvered through the crowd of dancers and disappeared into the hall. Wei Ying brought both of his eyebrows up in some stance of shock before he repeated the incident in his head, attempting his best to realize how it was he offended the other yet again.

“Maybe he’s angry at the fuddy duddy,” he said aloud.

“Or the fact that you ran out there and he had to compensate!” Jiang Cheng hollered, throwing a punch into his back. Wei Ying flew forward with three steps, but didn’t make as if it startled his composure in the slightest.

“Yeah, but I only did it because _you_ fell,” Wei Ying pointed out, still rummaging his thoughts for what it could’ve been. “It can’t have been the germ mask. He can’t be that sensitive.”

“I didn’t fall!”

“Well, you slipped and, sure, you didn’t fall, you were falling,” to himself he said, “it has to be the fuddy duddy. He’s so sensitive, I swear. Like I legit just made that up.”

Before he could validate the remainder of his intellect, Manager Lan stomped inside in the same manner that Wangji had originally lacked. The man marched up to Wei Ying and gripped him by the shoulder, turning him to look in his face.

“Just _what happened _today, Wei Wuxian?” His voice was raised enough to have been yelling, so close to his face that Wei Ying could’ve kissed his forehead if he wasn’t so interested in specifically women.

“I wanted to boogie next to brother Lan?” Wei Ying responded in a questioning tone, asking if it was alright. The last thing he wanted was for Manager Lan to realize Jiang Cheng fell during such a significant performance, which included all of them. He would most likely question Jiang Cheng’s status and bring that peacock to take his place as second lead.

“You disgrace of a – Wei Wuxian! Just what are you trying to do?” And then it struck him that Wangji was not present, and that unsettled his brow. With his hands raised, he began to lower them, taking to priorities before he could submit to the trivial topic of his worst recruit.

“He went into the hallway,” Wei Ying answered for him. “He was pissed because Wen Chao wanted a promotion.”

“Wei Wuxian!” Wen Chao hollered, earning a laugh from the other man.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I snatched off his germ mask and he went for the door.” At this, Manager Lan hit him in the shoulder and marched out in search of the other. Wei Ying rolled his eyes with a laugh, straightening his clothing and making to follow them when Jiang Cheng stopped him.

“It’s a family thing. You stay here,” he ordered.

For some reason, this displeased Wei Ying. He pursed his lips and obeyed, but the nervous twitch of annoyance slivered in his stomach. Did the others too, even Wangji’s family, did they understand that the man was not a cough drop? And a bit of him wanted the world to see Wangji’s face. No one spoke about Wangji in a way that they spoke of the others, the names they knew, the faces, they knew. Wangji was simply Lan Xichen’s little brother and excellent lead dancer, but they didn’t know anything else about him.

Perfectionist. To perfect the routine.

Lonely. Because he scared them away.

Stubborn. To give in.

Caring. To keep the group intact.

Protective. Of his brother.

Did other people see that? If Wei Ying could see that with a mere glance, why couldn’t he stalk into the hallway and confront the other? Why couldn’t he say something along the lines of, “dude, it’s just a germ mask,”? Wei Ying wasn’t one to comfort others, certainly not for reasons that made not a smidge of sense to him. He lamented for a moment that became an obvious vexation on his brow before Jiang Cheng nudged him again for behavior. If Wangji was going to be stubborn, he was going to be more so.

\---

A year had elapsed, and Wei Ying could feel it in his shins and arms. What he was accustomed to, now became a repetitive motion, a tap tap here, a swirl there, his hair tickling his back. In the parking lot. In the hallway. In the classroom. He was constantly working to perfect the next choreography, airpods in his ears, comfortable sneakers on his feet, stretch jeans for his wild movements. It was when he was making his way down the hall in his flamboyant display of taps, half hearted arm sways, for doing the entire piece in the public of a school building would most likely disturb those around him, that he found his head bopping to a song before his band class. It was the first day of Band and Percussion 164, when he was ridiculously swaying, until his hair swatted its way into Wen Qing’s face. She looked up to face him and said nothing, though her eyes glistened with a fire that was sure to consume him if she found herself glaring. Despite that, she did not glare, her eyes surrendering to a dull shade of brown as it met him. It spoke something of disappointment.

She opened the door and entered, finding that she would be a classmate to a well known celebrity, Wei Ying, after all, was spoke on everyone’s lips, and much pronounced. She sat quietly, rolling her drumsticks across her palms with her fingers. It alleviated much of her now apparent vexations, those she did not know that she possessed.

_You’re just a back up dancer, _was her rationale, and yet, like Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian was a name much collected and distributed. She eyed him again, his red streaks, piercing and tattoos. It appeared to be almost uncontained, struggling at its peak to be released, but kept under his calm composure. Perhaps it was the hands of another art that kept its submission, for Wei Wuxian seemed to be happy where he was, if it weren’t for how pale the man was becoming. Wen Qing did not see him often, this being the first class she ever had with him, often catching glimpses of the man in the hallways. The man was never still, in constant motion to a tune that lied in the depths of his earphones, and to what? Mainstream music.

_You look like an indie bastard, _she wanted to say, but refrained. Instead, she occupied her time, waiting for Wen Ning to return from the restroom to occupy the seat beside her. Her thoughts immediately returned to how pale and skinny Wei Ying had gotten. Where his shoulders had been from bench presses, were now slim arms. His calves however, seemed to be made of iron. But of course, the man was incessantly on his feet, balancing his weight on them in a hop.

The door suddenly opened, and Wen Ning entered with daze about his features, eyes quickly searching without meeting anyone’s eyes. He located his sister and ran to her, attempting to keep the attention away from him. Anxiety. He seated himself beside her, instantly taking her hand as she gave a squeeze. It was then that Wei Wuxian looked up from his routine thoughts, how the performance appeared in his head. He caught sight of the both of them and brought a smile to his lips. Wen Ning smiled with teeth in return, waving frantically like his joy couldn’t be contained to see him again. Wen Qing hid her annoyance, shooting her brother a look and shaking her head. Wei Wuxian smiled at her politely, but a little devious smirk played at his lips. She rolled her eyes and thought about how drumsticks fit perfectly in the eye socket.

As his classmates entered, the first thought that past their lips was how they were able to share a classroom with _the Wei Wuxian. _The second thought was how _Wen Qing _was also in the same class. She had a reputation, and thought nothing of it. The only female in a percussion class. The only female drummer. The fierce protector of her little brother who was now old enough for actual admission. Wen Qing though, had not thought of fame. She was a model by account, and did nothing else but practice in the secrecy of her home while Wen Chao dazzled everyone from the fourth row, if anyone could see him. What an absurd cousin. She hated thoughts of him, and soon found herself connecting him with the likes of Wei Wuxian. They were coworkers after all, one and the same, annoying all the same, but.

But what?

Wei Wuxian looked pale and skinny where Wen Chao did not. Wen Chao was already a lanky man with a skinny face and critical features. He was a branch of a tree that constantly swung in your direction, but was easily dodged. Wei Wuxian seemed like something more insightful, his head seeming to hide thoughts that weren’t pronounced on his lips. Like he bobbed to the music until he numbed to it, not because he truly enjoyed it. His placement was incorrect.

It was then that his phone rang. He noticed the caller ID and picked up instantly, a polite tone on his tongue where it desperately didn’t belong.

“Brother Lan! How are you?” He asked, and there was a reply on the other hand. Wen Qing could only make out what Wei Wuxian himself was saying.

“Oh, yeah, class is about to start. Yeah, I’ll be there later, probably around 16h30. I’ll try to come earlier if anything. Really? Are you sure? Alright, 16h30 then.”

There seemed to be a longer pause as Lan Xichen spoke into his ear as Wei Wuxian’s features lit up and then lost all of its color at once.

“You’re promoting me to second lead? Like over a phone call? I’m second lead now? That’s…that’s great! Thank you so much, oh my God. Just one step closer, right?” The man laughed into the phone, but his features appeared a bit affected. The gaiety of his laughter didn’t reach his expression, though anyone else wouldn’t have noticed it. Wen Qing was staring too hard not to notice.

“One day, brother Lan. I want that mic,” Wei Wuxian joked, but it wasn’t something Wen Qing had known. She had known Wei Wuxian as a vocal, but never actually heard him sing. Now that she was staring, she could definitely see the connotation of meaningful lyrics on his lips though he had obscured it with his childish maneuvers. He was quick to access his slip of expressions, incessantly conveying another of absolute carelessness that she knew was actually surveyed. There was no way Wei Wuxian wasn’t careful not that he carried the Gusu record label with his name. Now that his own image had been pried away from “the disgrace brother” to the more “successful brother.” And look at that, he had just stolen Jiang Wanyin’s position.

Oh.

_That_ was it. His expression didn’t abandon the fact that he could not be detangled from his adoptive brother. It was rumor that the two were closely bonded, no matter the circumstances. Why would Wei Wuxian suddenly want to dampen that relationship for fame. Was it worth it? He wanted the mic. The mic was not second lead or first lead, it was Lan Xichen.

_Taking out the second most known idol in Beijing? _She questioned. What a complicated task. At the very least, he wasn’t going for Xiao Xingchen. That was that rapper Xue Yang’s job. Or had been. On the side note, would the pop industry portray what Wei Wuxian wanted to portray? His aesthetic didn’t seem to agree. His personality didn’t seem to agree either. His dancing technique didn’t seem to agree with it either.

She was really thinking about it. Too much that Wei Wuxian had turned in her direction after ending the phone call. Their eye contact was brief but present, though she looked away first, feigning her disinterest. She wasn’t interested in Wei Wuxian in the slightest, just interested in his whereabouts. Someone like that was someone like her, hidden. And if Wei Wuxian had a plan to make himself known but in the pop industry, he would simply be overshadowed by Xiao Xingchen or Lan Xichen’s fans. He needed something else, some other foundational form. He needed to be more like her.

_Oh_.

She was disappointed. That’s what that was. And her expression did not fail it, visible on her face as it brought a frown to his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...job interviews and homework everywhere. Sorry I took so long to update!  
Short chapter this time because I need to go like actually plot. On vacation next week so i'll have plenty of time!  
Btw, NO Wen Qing is not a ship here. She's simply analyzing him and judging, lol. No love triangles unless requested.


	8. Two Prides

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His stomach swirled at the thought of ignoring Jiang Cheng’s suggestions in the name of expectancy. He didn’t want anyone to predict what he was going to do ever. That, and something told him that Xue Yang was watching back stage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I gave up on this story and was convinced to return to it to finish it, so here goes!  
So sorry that the update took forever, but i'm here again.   
The following bleeds into a Yi City Arc side series [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20177470/chapters/47806165)  
Read it if you're bored and love the Yi City characters as much as I do ♥

Jiang Cheng congratulated him the way he had expected, a paved on benevolence that would be peeled off later when the layer of pain manifested. Wei Ying took in a sharp breath and shook his brother’s hand as if the formality would lighten the mood.

“Next single, you’re gonna’ kick my butt,” Wei Ying assured him with a wink though both of them knew it to be false. Wei Ying was always better, a little short of perfect, because he shamed it. Just then, perfect walked into the door with his four eyes and square shoulders.

“No,” he simply told Wei Ying who stared back with an obnoxious expression reserved just for Wangjis.

“That’s too bad, Lan Zhan, Brother Lan already agreed.”

At this, Wangji turned to almost glare in his direction. “He did?”

“He did. I wouldn’t lie to you. You know all my honesty is reserved for you,” Wei Ying joked, throwing an arm over Wangji’s shoulder in which he was quickly negated to the extent of Wangji bumping into Wen Chao.

“Watch where you’re – “

“Woah, Wen Chao, watch where you’re standing,” Wei Ying interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, thoroughly sending red to his cheeks. “You’re all up on Lan Zhan. Can’t you see he’s straight?”

“W-Wei Wuxian!” Wen Chao roared, reaching for him when Wangji extended his own hand to catch him at the wrist.

“Fighting is prohibited,” he said, plain and simple.

“But Brother Lan, did you hear what – “

“And are you so easily provoked?” Wangji retorted quickly, his eyes not leaving Wei Ying’s. There was something else in them, but Wei Ying couldn’t read the expression. Instead, he had laughed into his fist as Wen Chao became tongue tied.

“You don’t want to mess with me Wei Wuxian. You’ll regret it,” Wen Chao cursed him, sending the threat directly to his back.

“When you get me, make sure you drag me down, because I rise, Wen Chao. Taint me, or I’ll shine brighter than anyone, even if they’re in white,” Wei Ying said, looking in Wangji’s direction since the man adorned his usual white attire of white jeans and a white button up.

“Pathetic,” Wangji told him, but Wei Ying smiled at him. Wangji didn’t like the gesture, creasing his eyebrows just a bit to discern the smile for what it was: genuine. When he realized this, he turned quickly and walked away.

Indeed, Xichen had allowed Wei Ying to come to the artist event with him though it wasn’t subject to any rationality.

_“I’m helping him rise.” Xichen had told Wangji._

_“He’s trying to overshadow you, Brother,” Wangji had responded. _

_“You misunderstand him.”_

_“There is no misunderstanding. I understand him.”_

_Xichen had given him a knowing smile and said aloud, “I’m sure you do.”_

Washing his hands in the restroom, Wangji still couldn’t erase the words from his head. He couldn’t discern them as easily as he had Wei Ying’s smile and it unnerved him deeply. What had his brother meant by that? And why allow Wei Ying to attend the artist event when he was a mesely backup dancer? His brother was too nice.

He turned to find Wen Chao sneaking around the hallways. His eyes narrowed as he hid himself again in the restroom, allowing the wall to block him. Wen Chao stalked down the hallway to the studio but didn’t enter. Instead, he placed a camera phone there and retracked, disappearing just as Wei Ying came down the hall to practice. Wangji almost reached out to take the phone, but his curiosities got the best of him. Wei Ying could take care of himself. He was ready to take over the world, after all. Someone like that didn’t need Wangji’s help, but it didn’t stop Wangji from staring from the bathroom wall like he was helpless to help, because he wasn’t needed.

When Wei Ying entered, he untied his hair and took a thin sip of water. He stretched a bit, nearing Jiang Cheng who laid on the ground with earphones in.

“I know your music’s not on,” Wei Ying said.

“You can practice if you want. I can leave,” Jiang Cheng answered, his eyes still closed. Wei Ying shook his head despite his brother’s eyes being closed.

“You can stay. I just need to practice my routine real fast. They’re apparently having me perform a solo routine before I can take part in the event. Can you watch and give me suggestions?” He just wanted Jiang Cheng to open his eyes and look at him. His brother nodded, sitting up and yawning. He gestured for Wei Ying to practice, taking a swig of his iced coffee from the corner. When the music started, Jiang Cheng was shocked to see that it was rap music, not just any rap music, but Xue Yang.

“What’re you trying to do?” Jiang Cheng asked, but Wei Ying went right into his routine, ignoring any implications of answering. The music was rough and inelegant, full of power and emotion. The background beats supported Xue Yang’s emphasizes and dropped when his voice overpowered. It was a perfect balance of rebellion. Jiang Cheng hated that he honestly couldn’t find a flaw in it except the fact that the performer was so corrupt, and so young while he was at it. Xue Yang was a bare 23 while the rest of them were in their thirties, and yet he had stolen from the renowned Xiao Xingchen at the age of 19. How was he still rising in the music world?

Wei Ying was seriously excellent. His movements and trajectory were in perfect unison with it as if he listened to the music often. Maybe he did. What else would his brother do that was against his wishes? When Wei Ying finished, he rolled onto the floor and onto Jiang Cheng’s lap, hugging his waist despite both of their sitting positions.

“We’re Kings,” Wei Ying told his brother. Jiang Cheng went rigid, but he relaxed, reaching down to sock his brother in the shoulder.

“The true kings already exist.”

“We’re the second kings. We’re the Pride Kings.”

“Two Prides?”

“Agreed?”

“Agreed.”

\----

The next morning was chaos as Wei Ying’s phone vibrated after vibration. The disturbance got to the extent of waking him from his slumber as he reached for it to check for a phone call. It wasn’t a phone call at all, but mere notifications.

Someone had live streamed his session last night and the conversation he had with his adoptive brother. Thankfully, he hadn’t said anything cumbersome.

_How does this have twenty-five thousand views already? Seriously? _He thought, stretching and cursing the anonymous account for posting it. His own mentions were now of fans who agreed with his being one of the Pride Kings, with how intense and exotic his dance routine was, how he was meant to be a soloist. He agreed, yes, but it wasn’t a time for him to outshine Lan Xichen, as he was merely a guest, and a guest that would be dancing, not one that took the mic as direly as he wanted to.

Another issue imposed. His routine had been leaked, which meant that he could no longer use it. Improvising it was then. He wouldn’t be able to create another routine in time. Quickly, he climbed out of bed and prepared himself. The chauffer would be arriving soon to adopt him, and from the messages from his fans, he needed to be ready to meet someone.

Xue Yang was going to be there. Someone had showed Xue Yang the clip. He had tweeted the following: “fire, bitches.”

There was something about Xue Yang that was unsettlingly promising. In regards to being noticed by him, Wei Ying found himself smiling, like mischief had found its match and lit the fire. Bitches. He didn’t want to fade from the light. He wanted to meet it. It had to have been some sort of calling. After all, why invite a villain rapper to an idol event, and it just so happens that Wei Ying was allowed admittance?

_He has so much face, I love it_, Wei Ying thought. For Xue Yang to come back from such a huge scandal and still make music, still attend an event that housed the very veteran Xiao Xingchen was everything Wei Ying wanted. He wanted damage. He wanted to paint everything in his red. Secretly, he thanked the anonymous person for leaking his material. For one, it simply boosted his fame, and he would be the talk of the nation before appearing at an event where he was simply a sideman. Life was so special.

When Wei Ying exited the vehicle with Lan Xichen, he was told to perform after him, not alongside him. Xichen had a smile about his lips all morning, and Wei Ying could yet read it. When he saw Xiao Xingchen backstage, he almost lost the balance in his legs. He instantly ran up to shake hands with the man.

“I’ve heard so much about you from Brother Lan. It’s a true honor to be of your acquaintance,” Xiao Xingchen had said to him. Wei Ying blinked at his words before he tilted his head in confusion.

“You heard of _me?_ Hell, I heard of _you_! The honor is mine, please. I’m sure Brother Lan had a load to say about this piece of work,” Wei Ying said, pointing to himself.

“Only good things. Always,” Xichen said, coming over to give Xiao Xingchen a hug. The veteran didn’t look well today. He appeared healthier in photos, perhaps the lighting. Then it struck Wei Ying that it was most likely because Xue Yang would be here. Xue Yang had stolen thousands from the man, and to appear again like nothing happened in the same setting a few years later wasn’t a reunion anyone wanted.

_Why let a kid scare you off?_ Came Wei Ying’s thoughts. Xue Yang was still young. It was the age of rebel. Wei Ying knew that sort of rebellion and couldn’t wait to see him, the epitome of starting from nothing.

“He’s going to be last,” Xichen whispered to Xiao Xingchen who nodded in return. His smile was faint, but it looked genuine, like he was unafraid.

“You save the best for last,” Xiao Xingchen told him. At his words, Xichen seemed to bear just a hint of confusion, and yet Xiao Xingchen’s expression was ever gentle and accepting. Wei Ying could read it well. Xiao Xingchen anticipated seeing Xue Yang just as much as himself.

After all of the performances, after Wei Ying’s solo, he went to sit beside Xichen with a “GUEST WEI WUXIAN” sign on his desk. He had still utilized Xue Yang’s song, but he improvised considering his fans had expected what was leaked. His stomach swirled at the thought of ignoring Jiang Cheng’s suggestions in the name of expectancy. He didn’t want anyone to predict what he was going to do ever. That, and something told him that Xue Yang was watching back stage. When the beats picked up, the drop of the base and heavy distortion, the sound of the snare that reverberated in their ears, everyone knew the fiend was coming. Then he appeared.

I tread on water while this bitch gets the ground

When both of us are talking, yeah, I don’t hear a sound

I started kicking my feet because I thought that I drowned

You didn’t help me swim though so I think you should go

You got all of that money but isn’t it all for show?

Walking all but anywhere it’s just to and fro

This one’s for the industry – with that sort of mentality

Take this for the imagery I’d hate to bring up the technicality

– but the neutrality has no cordiality

I said it’s angry as fuck as loud as my mind, the brutality

It’s during those times when there’s no sobriety FIX

Me, A few drinks, Me, a variety, throw it together, MIX

You think I’m done but I’ve still a few tricks

It’s that sort of society, where did I go wrong?

Fuck your dubiety, let me finish this song

And if you don’t wanna’ come, I’ll drag you along

I’ll give you a few treats, you’ll tell me it’s sweets

Don’t you block my vision, call me a cheat

Throw me up and down, give me a beat

I’ll throw you a verse like a lollipop

Come to a full stop, I’m back on top

Yet you weren’t ready to taste a cough drop

Wei Ying instantly recognized the faces around him, aghast, disgusted, in awe, amazed. It was everything that people gave Wei Ying when they saw him, and he basked in it. Xue Yang’s fans were wild were sound, standing and jumping in their corner despite the overwhelming space occupied by Xichen and Xiao Xingchen’s fans. They wore shirts with a large “XY” and held signs despite the fact that signs weren’t allowed. They were half male and half female, large signs that depicted, “KILL IT XUE FAM.” Xue Fam was the name of the fandom, and Wei Ying had to admit he was definitely a part of it. When he looked in Xue Yang’s direction, he was shocked to see the kid just as surprised.

_He doesn’t think he has fans,_ Wei Ying thought. He pulled Xue Yang’s seat closer to his and put a fist up for a bump when the kid approached. Xue Yang instantly smiled, but it was a mischievous smile, one that people used when they needed to protect themselves. Wei Ying was as much a threat as anyone else in the idol world that hated him. When Xue Yang bopped his fist, he did so, hard, with a fist full of rings, and yet Wei Ying met him halfway, applying just as much pressure with his own rings. Then he boasted his fingers, and smiled. Xue Yang’s smile didn’t dissipate, nor did he back down.

“You killed it,” Wei Ying told him, though he knew both of their hands stung.

“Killer’s my middle name,” Xue Yang said, but he looked around as though someone was watching him, and shrunk a bit. He was an anxious kid and couldn’t hide it.

“Gotta’ get the blood on your hands,” he responded. His eyes slid to the edge of his sockets to find Xiao Xingchen’s gaze. It was a minute glance, but he knew the veteran was watching them. Wei Ying could tell that Xue Yang was avoiding contact with the man, staring straight ahead, his slouch forced, his expression too lax to be natural. Then as if courage seemed to find Xue Yang, the kid smirked an evil expression under his nose and turned in Xiao Xingchen’s direction.

_Savage, _Wei Ying thought with a laugh.

Instantly, Xiao Xingchen looked away, but a petite smile rested on his face as if only he knew something. It confused Xue Yang who shrunk back again, small behind the desk that covered him, like a kid on tippy toes trying to see into the adult world.

_Mini-savage, _Wei Ying thought, for the true savage was Xiao Xingchen, veteran of the scene, above everyone. Not even Wei Ying could take that man’s mic, and when Wei Ying registered that, he had nothing but respect.


End file.
